


Dream a Little Dream of Me

by honestlyisuck



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 1930s, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - 1930s, F/M, Jazz Age
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:54:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29725836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestlyisuck/pseuds/honestlyisuck
Summary: *Ladybug and Chat Noir in Paris 1933. Aged up btw because I'm not writing 14 yos lol*While balancing her day job in the bakery, Marinette works in a roaring night club as a seamstress when she befriends the new singer from New York City. Long gone are the days with her childhood crush on Adrien Agreste, the famous son of the France's top designer. Little does she know, she sees him every night while they protect the city. And less to her knowledge is the growing interest the Agreste boy has with her new friend.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Reader, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	1. Sunrise Serenade

Thick clouds of smoke flooded the air, swirling around the tops of heads bobbing and drinking to the silk sounds of the piano. It was a slow night, wrapping up with the last of patrons who were either too drunk to greet the last hour of darkness or too melancholy to leave the comfort of their velveteen seats to face the new day. The rest of the band had called it quits, along with the dancers and the odd backstage hand. All who was left was the pianist, the dark red ambiance, the bartender, and the gloomy souls that lingered as the bells of Notre Dame cried out at five am.

From her stool, she gazed out into the (quite small) room, crammed with tables and chairs that embraced the stage. Bulky curtains framed the walls, plush to the touch and felt as if they hung without purpose. The only light came from lamps scattered across every table, emitted a deep orange that only amplified the rouge of the room. She felt her bones move absentmindedly to the relaxed melody of the music as her finger traced the rim of her drink. The bartender was smart to stop sending whiskey her way after three, opting to water she barely noticed to take its place. All she could focus on was the lone microphone that sat abandoned on the wooden platform, beckoning to her.

Taking a final swig of her water, she thrusted herself off the bar and strode to the finishing Nino, who grinned brightly at his last note for the night. Her hands clasped together, diverting his attention, and for the first time in hours she heard her own voice, "phenomenal Nino!"

Bowing from his seat, the taller man shot her a cheeky smile, his long strides bringing himself to the edge of the stage to meet her, "merci Y/N, attends juste que tu sois ici aves moi."

Nino was the second friend she had made in Paris, two weeks after her big move and the first time she had every stepped into the bleak club. She had basically flopped her interview to follow into the role of singer for the club, despite her success in America. That was until a certain boy with a sunny smile and smoky brown eyes gestured for her to ascend the stage and demanded her to flaunt her talents.

"Awe," waving her manicured nails, Y/N rested her head on the top of the cold wood, savoring the pause of heat, "you flatter."

"Only when it's due," his accent bled heavily through his words as he swooped down to squat next to her head, studying the regular remaining club-goers. "Now, go get some sleep, we can't let our American pass out on her first real night!"

Chuckling at his earnestness, she blew a kiss to him and took her time to the dressing room, appreciating the air of the clubroom. The stark difference of light stunned her momentarily as she stepped into fluorescent. Her own reflection glared at her across the dank room, a pool of eyeliner had formed under her eyes and the caked foundation was prominent in the direct lighting. Sticking out in many odd directions, the gel had a loose hold on her hair and there was a distinct booze smell that could have only emanated from her. Thank god for cold cream and Chanel No.5.

By the time she had scraped off the last of her makeup and changed into her clothes from the afternoon before, the sun had already greeted Paris with a bright kiss, melting whatever dusting of snow had falling while it was away. Despite the bright rise, the December wind still chilled her exposed skin that poked out from her long coat. The streets were deserted, minus the few shopkeepers that began to open for the day, never acknowledging her presence as she sauntered pass, appreciating the clicking sound of her own kitten heels upon the stone sidewalks. The first cabbie of the day roared down the road, a dark cloud of gas puffing up into the sky, reminding her slightly of the German cigars she had packed away in her bureau. 

Something beautiful she loved about the city was the buildings, that overlooked her with a bricked elegance. They were so old, so rich in their place in the world; so very different from the gleaming, mechanical skyscrapers she was used to. There was something so _wise_ about Parisian structures; they were not the tallest, but by god were they the sturdiest. The roads weaved together with a familiar cohesion, each step screaming back out the millions that had walked upon it. Maybe it was the city rat in her bones, but the comfort of being surrounded by thousands of others made her feel at home. 

Yanking back the door, she marched through, exhaling softly at the ring of the bell above her head. The little bakery was empty, but she could already smell the first batch of yeasty bread baking. Allowing her hands grace over the top of a metal chair, Y/N moseyed over to the front desk, waiting for her favorite black-haired girl to manifest right there on the spot. Taking the moment to herself, she hung over the marble to peer at the pad of sketch paper and a new design that seemed to have been erased and redrawn multiple times. From her upside-down view, she gathered the dress was taunt at the hips, a black silk underdress underneath an elaborately decorated mesh gown. She could distinguish the very distinct style of embroidered flowers, overlapping themselves many times over from the bottom of the netting, as if they grew wildly up. 

"Bonjour, comment puis-je- Y/N!" just as expected with loose buns tucked to the back of her neck and an apron, Marinette appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, first distracted by the ties of the smock, but once she looked up recognition flooding her eyes, pushing her forward to the girl. 

Pulling up from her snooping, Y/N grinned as the two exchanged soft kisses to each cheek, skin barely touching over the desk, "Mari, darling!" 

Marinette moved around the woman, allowed herself to sink down into a chair as her friend pushed up on the marbled surface to sit, analyzing her and her disheveled appearance, "you never left the club, huh?" 

Sucking in a deep breath, all Y/N could do was puff up in defense, "you know me too well." 

"You need to take care of yourself!" 

"It's the jet lag, Mari, don't worry." 

Shooting an unimpressed look, Marinette scowled and hit Y/N's leg gently, "you've been here for two months!" 

Y/N's head lolled by itself, the night cramped on a bar stool catching up to her aching neck, "time flies." 

Rolling her eyes, the black-haired woman stood up from her seat and made her way back into the kitchen, "you've got to sleep cherie, you're not invincible." She continued her rant, although muffled as she disappeared behind the wall, but reemerged with two mugs of coffee, the steam fanning over her round face. 

Marinette was beautiful in every way. She never needed makeup, despite what she thought, with her cheeks naturally plump and pink. Her bright blue eyes were given to her by her father (Italian, naturally), but the soft shape was from her mother. And even though she complained endlessly about her hair, Y/N had never seen it not flawless. With all of that, Marinette was the nicest person she had ever met. Impossibly nice. Caring for her health, helping her navigate the new city on her short breaks, giving her the insight of French fashion, coaching her through practices with the band. She was the only reason Y/N had any relationship with the rest of the club's staff, introducing her and patiently aiding her through her clumsy French.

"Here," placing a porcelain mug next to the girl's body with a small ‘ _clunk!_ ’, Marinette let out a long breath, burying herself into her own cup. 

"Long night?" 

"The longest." 

Taking a short sip, Y/N tapped her friend with her foot, who at this point pulled the chair up to the desk and rested her head on the counter, "I like the new design. It's very chic." With a measly hum as a response, Marinette barely shifted in her sedimentary sprawl, a sight that made Y/N's heart ache, "I bet if you ask your parents would give you the day off." 

"But what if there is an akuma attack?" 

A loving hand had found its way on Marinette's back, rubbing back a forth as her friend just giggled softly, "well, then you'll be sound asleep and you won't even know it happened!" 

Another hum was all she got. 

Sure, America was weird with its customs and superheroes, but Paris had a leg up on weirdness. The hardest thing to adjust to by far was the random spells of attacks that happened at odd by some unknown force. Y/N had a tough time understanding it, especially on her first lonely day on the new continent, but as everyone around her acted as if was normal, she quickly learned to rely on the two masked saviors to save the day. She had only experienced one of the attacks up close and personal once, the victim akumatized being in the same park she had found herself in during a smoke break for rehearsal, the man growing about ten times in size and tearing up the landscaping. And with that, she only met the heroes up close and personal once, only increasing her curiosity about them. 

Taking flimsy sanctuary behind a fountain, Y/N was convinced it was probably her last day on earth when a bluntly red and black polka dotted figure landed with a huff in front of her, quickly motioning her with a hand to grab on for safety. The unexpected throw of a yo-yo and flight up onto a building was thrilling and deathly scary at the same time.

"Please, hide up here. If you can, try to find an entrance to get inside!" 

Rendered speechless, all Y/N could do was stare at the woman, who jerked to her side as her partnered planted himself on the edge of the roof. Clad in only black leather with a belted tail, the two were an impossible sight. 

"Ma dame, nous devons- oh, bonjour!" With a deep bow, the blonde cat flashed a dazzling smile to the silent girl, who was still reeling from everything going on. A tuff of crazy blonde hair covered the top of his head, two ears peaking out. Juxtaposed to that, his partner had intricately styled hair, pulled back in a pouf of black. Tenderly grasping Y/N’s hand, he planted a soft kiss on the topmost of her skin, "Tu sera en securite ici, princesse!" 

Next to Chat Noir only sat an unimpressed Ladybug, who could only pinch the bridge of her nose as he looked to each of them with a shit eating grin, throwing a wink to Y/N. "Okay, anyways, just be careful," and with that, both heroes swooped off the roof, leaving Y/N alone and starstruck. 

Surprisingly, Ladybug knew to speak to her in English. 

With a sudden sharp breath, Marinette sat up and gazed over to her friend, "Alright, well you need to go off and get some sleep and I need to get to work. Alya is stopping by later to do a piece on the shop, and we are both going to head down to the club to watch tonight. You've got a lot ahead of you, and there is no way in hell I'm letting you fall asleep on stage." 

"You know," Y/N gulped down the black coffee quickly, her tastebuds strangely having more of an aversion to that then straight alcohol, "Nino said the same thing." 

Ushering the girl off of the counter, the blue-eyed girl started to clean up with a purpose, flittering around as if she floated off the ground, "maybe we have a point." 

Y/N fished in her pockets for some change to sling into the tip jar, and with an air kiss to Marinette, faced the bitter wind once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N okay so this has been in my head for a WHILE and I hope y'all enjoy. They are all like 20-22 btw


	2. Polka Dots and Moonbeams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay yes, I put French in this but when reader isn't in the chapter or its two French characters, the dialogue is in English but assume its French LMAO

Chat was down _bad_. More specifically, _Adrien_ was down bad. For almost ten excruciating years, he had harbored an unwavering affection to his lady; a woman who only shot him down time and time again. A woman who had never once failed to disappoint him in all of their endeavors, minus reciprocating his love.

Ladybug loved him, he knew that, but the way she did was nowhere near the same way he did. She relied on him, but not to the same tune of ‘I _must_ see this person to have a good day’ way. She trusted him, but not with her entire life. Sure, she had placed her own life in danger for him, but Chat knew it wasn’t how he did.

When he had turned eighteen, he had given up some of the adolescent fantasy that they would end up together in some fantastic, unworldly way, which wasn’t necessarily disheartening. Although a piece of him, Adrien, always remained with her, suddenly there was a punch of fresh air that let him breathe around her. He didn’t have to doddle around her, he didn’t have stay completely whipped. He could go out and enjoy the perks of being the heir of a major corporation and the heart of the city. Adrien, and more importantly, Chat, could move on.

At least that’s what he thought, until a fateful December night which had previously been simply trying not to fall sleep during another extensive meeting with his father’s team. Being an adult only brought on more responsibilities to Adrien, advancing forward as a company executive of the Agreste fashion empire. He didn’t even really like fashion.

Some pitiful fabric supplier had been going on and on timidly about the newest international restrictions when suddenly Gabriel, the stoic head of a man, silenced him, “enough! I cannot pause my work for the trivial affairs of mindless governments. We’ll reconvene tomorrow, it is getting late.” And with that, the meeting, and Adrien’s entire night, was over.

He parted from his father at the door of his childhood mansion with a sorry excuse of a goodbye, was greeted by his chauffer, and assumed to the rest of a boring couple hours in his townhouse until a seemingly boring patrol to a very boring sleep. Then, of course, an akuma attacked.

It was a relatively easy one to defeat, just another sad sap with a broken heart in Paris. Something Chat was quite familiar with.

Despite the prestige of the Agreste name, the fame of being the savior of France, and the attention of being known as the very face of male fashion, Adrien could never find himself get over his little “crush”. Sure, he had paid attention to the girls around him who admired him and had even liked quite a few girls outside of Ladybug (there was a classmate when he was younger, he had found a sudden pull towards their final year of high school, but that never panned out), regardless, the poor man had never been able to let himself go on. Although she had never reciprocated his advances, he had always felt as though he was cheating.

And here she was, again, fighting beside him with an impeccable elegance, floating around as if she did not need the ground, and once again Adrien felt as though he was fourteen again, hopelessly in love with her.

Shaking the dust from her hands, Ladybug turned to Chat and flaunted a heart-stopping smile, her eyes hanging in exhaustion, “well kitty, I’ve got to go. I have a big day tomorrow and you look like you need a cat nap.”

She reeled back, as if to lunge from the rooftop, but without even thinking, Chat reached out and grabbed ahold of her wrist, feeling his own limbs going numb, “wait.” He wasn’t even sure why he was doing so, the confusion on her face matching the one in his head.

“What’s wrong Chat?” the confusion, unfortunately to him, morphed into a sincerity in her eyes that crawled it way up his guts, tearing up his lungs.

The pause was too much to bear, as if the moon and sun itself took away time and forced him to actually think of what to say. No funny one-liner, no friendly flirt. All around them, the stars shined brilliantly, casting a glow across her face that not even Caravaggio could capture. Yet the moment came and went, and all her could do was swallow and force a grin, “nothing, just have a good night, my lady.”

And of course, she had to give him one of those magnificent smiles. With a relinquish of his grip and jolt across the rooftops, Ladybug was gone. Unknowing to her, it socked him across the face like a goodbye.

The townhouse was a birthday gift from his father, as if to make up for the years of neglect. Gabriel was a strange man, and Adrien was fully aware of such, but something about the house felt like a mockery. Of course, his father would have given him another elaborate gift, to remind him that he had given everything in life. Completely indebted to him, _you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me_.

Just one more reason to not get on a train and get the hell out of Paris.

Adrien had spent countless hours in the parlor provided by Gabriel dreaming of a life outside of the Agreste sphere. Possibly finding his way somewhere like England, settling down in some dingy apartment and working an actual job. Doing domestic tasks with an overbearing force chaining him there. Maybe he would fall in love with some cute little English girl, and they could just enjoy being two ordinary people together. But Adrien couldn’t do that to his father, particularly after the disappearance of his mother, and he couldn’t do that to Ladybug. Still, he had found himself many nights sinking deep into a bottle of scotch and simply dreaming of the mundane.

Like every night, the townhouse was cold and empty. Opting the balcony as a sufficient front door, Adrien detransformed and found himself, once again, alone and reaching into the bar for something suitable to daydream in the moonlight.

“What was that little _moment_ you had?” Plagg had already found himself in the fridge, disappearing through the door and zipping back with multiple types of cheeses, staring at the man with a judgmental look.

Scrunching up his face, Adrien abandoned the liquor cabinet and fell back onto the plush lounger, masking himself in his hands, “I don’t know.”

“You’re still in love with her, huh.”

The kwami’s words came out as a blunt statement rather than a question, which shot him through the heart. Scowling, all Adrien could reply with was a drawled-out groan, crumpling his own body up on the sofa, not paying mind to his suit’s eventual wrinkling.

Plagg’s little body found itself next to the pitiful sight, softly tsking, “you realize you are the most wanted man in Paris, and you’re hung up on a woman that has rejected you since junior high.”

“You know what-” just as he had unfurled himself from his own misfortune, a staggering ring echoed through the halls, displacing Adrien. Muttering to himself as he wandered over to the parlor, the shriek of the phone was only silenced once he held the receiver up to his ear, “hello?”

“Adrien, baby! Sorry for calling so late but it’s just now my break,” if there was a person that could lift Adrien’s mood more than Ladybug, it was Nino. Befriending him back in school, Nino had always stuck around despite the distance placed due to their individual paths through adulthood. He had always made an effort to check in with the melancholic blonde, inviting him to gigs he booked or visiting the townhouse when Adrien had been particularly silent.

“No worries man, how’s the club?”

“Amazing- which is exactly why I called! Are you busy tomorrow night?”

Taking a moment to think through his schedule, taking account the alternating patrolling he and Ladybug had set up, Adrien sucked on his teeth, “depends on how the old man is feeling, but I think I’m good.”

“Perfect!” there was a bouncy cadence in Nino’s voice, outshining the loud background sound of the club, “tomorrow night our new singer is performing, and I need you to come. Everyone we love will be there and I’ve got a feeling in my bones that it’ll be a show that you can’t miss.”

Chuckling at the intensity of his friend, Adrien leaned up against the wooden paneling of the wall, gazing out the window. It was opened slightly, the chill of the air refreshing. “Is the singer any good?”

“Fucking _crazy_ good. I have no clue why she came here in the first place; she was all lined up back in New York and dropped it all to live some European fantasy.”

“She’s from New York?”

Nino barked laughing as if Adrien had said an inside joke he wasn’t a part of, “yeah and she’s got this cute accent I know you’d like. Every time she speaks it’s like I’m watching some Hollywood flick.”

“Remember Nino, you’re married. I was there.”

“Okay bud, cool down, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah, you did.”

Adrien could hear Nino huff through the phone, eliciting a snicker from his throat, “I’ll be there Nino. I need to get out anyways.”

“Be there or be square!” and with that, Adrien was alone once again.


End file.
